


Short stories

by Chamiila



Category: Original Work
Genre: "hey im here for the summer internshi-" fucking dies, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Other, bro this dude's head got cut OFF lmao, chamiilas-stories, for some reason i like cutting off body parts in m stories. does this make me a murderer? yes, slight gore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2019-07-25 21:03:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16205630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chamiila/pseuds/Chamiila
Summary: this is a bunch of my short stories compiled into one work.





	1. Experiments

-Simon-

 

water. that was the only thing i remembered for a long, long time.  
i can’t swim. sunk to the floor like a stone as she looked at me, that smile on her face.  
it was all blurry from then on out.  
i remember feeling a faint boom. i looked over to my left to see that one of the other inmates had broken free from the small water chamber, crashing through the walls.  
an elemental. my friend, the one i had taken with me here when i thought this was just a summer camp.  
they dragged him back into another room, away from everyone else.  
my hands weakly gripped the side of the submersion tank, trying - and failing- to crack the walls.  
i looked back at her.  
completely dry, happy, healthy. wearing my shame and humiliation like a crown. I noticed that she had added small details to her outfit- her peculiar human hands were adjourned with small rings, made out of the body parts of, well, presumably, the other inmates.  
then I noticed the small trinket she was fidgeting with- a unicorn horn, broken jaggedly at the bottom. it would sell for millions.  
I looked over at the other friend who had accompanied me to this ‘summer internship’- sure enough, the horn on his head had been ripped off, splintered jaggedly at the top.  
i looked back at her.  
i was angry.  
filled with new emotion, i swung my foot through the water, shattering the glass wall. i leapt through it, and instantly fell on my face. my legs, that presumably hadn’t worked in at least a few weeks, were too weak to lift myself up with.  
the lady that was watching over us turned her head slightly in my direction, and then mumbled something my waterlogged ears couldn’t hear.  
….it was probably “take him away”- because they were attaching chains to my hands and feet and dragging me into another room. I saw a hammer coming towards my head and everything went black.  
—  
I woke up in a haze. no more water. I coughed, feeling dizzy.  
something felt… wrong. my head was too….. light? is that the word?  
I lifted my hand to my head and felt…. nothing.  
not that I was bald, it’s just that… the majority of my horns were missing, leaving only the most prominent pair left.  
it felt like nothing.

 

-Jake-

darkness.  
I opened my eyes.  
still darkness.  
I heard steps. “jake!”  
my name.  
“Oh, you can’t see, can you?”  
I shake my head- or at least I think so.  
“Oh! my bad, let me get that for you.”  
I heard fire sizzling. as all elementals, I instantly felt compelled to walk towards it. I leaped down from where I was sitting and instantly fell.  
…. I’ve never fallen around pure elements before. aren’t they supposed to….help elementals? I felt around my legs. small little bracelets. with rocks on them?  
“oh- don’t bother getting up. those rocks are Onidyte.”  
Onidyte? the rock that stops an elemental’s powers in their tracks? who would put this on me?  
“hold on”  
the room lit up- it was small, like a doctor’s office….it certainly had some weird looking tools like a doctor’s office.  
I looked around.  
the thing that I was sitting on before I fell was one of those doctor chair things. the ones you lay down on? they have the weird, long sheets of paper over them? you know the ones. I felt around, my hands slipping on the tile floor.  
something was wrong. my vision was tinted black. I lifted a hand to my face.  
I felt my mouth, my nose, my…..  
my eyes were missing.  
no blood. elementals are tricky like that. instead of blood, thin wisps of black, slightly see-through smoke drifted up to the ceiling.  
but I could still see. if elementals are given a powerful rock or flame, it could potentially serve as another limb-or eye, I guess.  
..speaking of, my eyes swept across the room. from the floor, I couldn’t see much, but a pair of jet black shoes caught my eye.  
high heels.  
HER shoes.  
now filled with spite and anger, I turned my head as her sadistic gaze surveyed the room like a beacon in the middle of a churning sea.  
her bloodshot eyes met mine.  
I noticed a new accessory. a headband, horns on it. little eye designs.  
simon’s horns. my eyes.  
I clutched at her feet. she drew away in disgust, a sneer plastered on her face.  
I grunted, shifting my weight from one hand to another.  
“where is he?” I mumbled. “why do you have a set of his horns?”  
I new Nashi was fine. his unicorn horn would regrow, and he hadn’t made any attempt to escape. but I knew after my capture Simon would do something foolish to try and escape.  
she smirked.  
“I don’t have just ONE set, honey.” she said, bending down to pat me on the head like I was a toddler who had just asked if the sky was neon green.  
her tiny human hands waved, and someone guarding the door got up and walked away.  
“where is he?” I repeated, trying to get up with the Onidyte weights on my hands and feet.  
“he’s safe. semi-safe. shaking out his waterlogged ears, no doubt.”  
I growled, shooting her a glare that I hoped would tear through her skull.  
unfortunately, it did not.  
the guard came rushing in with a big box of what I hoped wasn’t what I thought it was.  
“pour it out on the floor.”  
the guard complied, spilling out the contents of the box on the floor.  
horns. Simon’s. tons of them. I grabbed one, running my hand over it. it was cut clean off- it wouldn’t leave even a mark on Simon’s body, that I knew. these horns were cut off in a way that would leave no scars- no physical scars, at least.


	2. In Memorium (1/2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a king loses his head- quite literally (1/?)

awake.  
he looked down at his hands. they weren't his. they looked like his and responded to his momements, but they weren't his.  
"oh!!!! King Sebastian!!! you're awake."  
something hisses open and he falls to the ground. some human asshole is looking over him. he hates those guys. there's only been three of these things in existence and he hates all of them. no fur. no horns. not even basic things like blood color synced up with the rest of the four kingdoms. it was a sickly red. he'd only seen it once before. it fascinated him.  
wait  
when had he seen human blood before?  
wait  
*fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck*  
I KNOW WHY I'M HERE NOW! SHIT!  
he stood up, enraged, and pushed the human scientist into the wall, causing it to crack underneath her. she didn't respond. she just blinked.  
"oh. so you remember."  
"what did you do to my body."  
"i'll do you one better. what'd she do to your face?"  
"take me to my....... what? face?"  
"let's just say you'll be needing your kingly mask after all."  
"i refuse to wear that."  
"perhaps you'll change your mind after you....take a look."  
"why'd i do that and risk running into him?"  
"i suppose.i'll show you the body, if you'd so kindly-"  
she takes his distraction to stab a pen into his forearm. cotton-candy pink blood spills out. well, not cotton candy pink. an extremely dull red. he winces and falls to the ground, clutching his arm where the pen hit.  
"this way!!!"  
he looked at his dead, crusty body, blood still raw in places she had stabbed him in defense.  
*if she did this to my...*  
"where's ajax?"  
"oh! he took... *care* of them."  
tension he didn't know he was holding released from his shoulders. it was over.  
"and the boy?"  
"dead as a doornail."  
he bent down to inspect his bloody, maggot-filled head.  
"this skull. i want it."  
"it's yours, i'd-"  
"i want it attached to my face at all times."  
a pause fell upon the room. he used this valuable time to examine his skull further. the same shapes and bone structure.... exactly where she left it when she killed him. he stroked the skull, hands lingering slightly in places where muscle ligaments and skin still managed to hold on. he grinned to himself in a bittersweet manner. as much as he could, with a sideways mouth on his new face.  
"..............excuse me?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA FUCK.


	3. In Repromandium (2/2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2/? probably 2/2. back to other stupid stories man like. im a homestuck kinnie- //gets strangled//

when they met, there was tranquility.  
this was before he ... lost his head. so to speak.  
-

\- prolouge-  
"you have to do something with it."  
I paused, surveying the stone-cold bodies standing there in the corner of the room. the crying man. the hertz whale. finally stabilized and killed, as they should be.  
"they aren't dead, you know"  
I closed my eyes and scowled. "fuck nathaniel, I fucking know that."  
"your face shows otherwise, [REDACTED]."  
I walked over to the bodies, frozen in stone.  
"you're sure we can't just kill the rock formations?"  
"no."  
I turned to nathaniel.  
"take that shit- eating grin off your face and i might fucking believe you."  
the mirror man just smiled wider.  
"this is me at my most....honest, [REDACTED]. the crying man and the hertz whale are slow adversaries...they look harmless, but they WILL bounce back. plus, Touya and Kabrit are still out there...they will know."  
that was true. that was true.  
"maybe we can-"  
the mirror man suddenly shot bolt upright, looking angry.  
"WE WILL NOT KEEP THEM HERE."  
I blinked at this sudden explosion.  
"then where?"  
"leave that to me."  
I didn't trust nathaniel. i don't. i never trusted him. i mean......i'm supposed to....and that pisses me off.  
"fine."  
\----  
blinking.  
wake up.----  
blinking.  
wake up.----  
blinking.  
wake up.----  
blinking.  
wake up.----  
blinking.  
wake up.----  
blinking.  
wake up.

h e l l o t h e r e.  
n o t f r o m h e r e?  
Y o u a r e n o t t h e f i r s t.

I lifted my head and it instantly bumped against something green and rough.  
"hey! what the fuck?....you don't look like a heart.... or a club..spade? no. diamond, DEFINEtly not.... hey, fuckstick, show me your ears."  
i covered my ears.  
"...." I couldn't see the speaker's face, but i felt like he was smiling suddenly.  
I opened my eyes and looked around. I was trapped in some sort of green glass cage.  
I opened my mouth to speak, before remembering no one could hear me under the cage. or in general.  
I turned to the man. Correction. not a man. a bipedal animal in a fancy suit was staring down at me, smiling. some sort of....dog? fox? canine? whatever. If this guy was into cosplaying it wasn't my fault. it was... an awful realistic suit though....  
whatever he was, he turned and called for someone.  
men in masks with different symbols on them - one a heart, one a spade, one a diamond, started smashing the glass with these giant rams. I screamed unhelpfully and dove out of the way. the glass barrier was broken within seconds and the men walked away robotically.  
the animal man extended his hand to me.  
"Call me SK." he said, pulling me up.  
"who are you?"  
I opened my mouth, speaking.  
I couldn't. right.  
SK tilted his head. "what, mute or something?"  
I nodded and made a gesture with my hand, saying kinda, yeah.  
"well, can you write? got a nickname?"  
i nodded and motioned for a piece of paper.  
it was brought over, along with a weird writing utensil. I pressed it to the paper.  
wait. why would i tell them my real name?? nickname's fine enough.  
i looped the writing thing, whatever it was, forming the letters to the nickname my mom had given me.  
i handed it to him.  
"....hertz? fifty-two hertz whale?? what a shitty name, who the fuck named you?"  
I rolled my eyes.  
"PRINCE! PRINCE! CALL FROM THE DECADE OF SPADES!"  
SK snatched a phone from the man who had been calling him. he shot the man a glare and put the phone to his ear.  
what came out was an indecipherable scream. panicked tones - one very firm and loud one surfacing over the others. it was angry.  
"JESUS CHRIST, AL! calm DOWN. jesus fuck, spades don't like even the slightest bit of change don't they? every time.... oh. yeah, well, we got one too.... I guess ajax wasn't very careful... I don't know why you got one. our green glass chamber can only fit one person, maybe they both fell in and there wasn't any room to put them in? what?"  
a pause.  
"...I don't know, ship him over here. yeah. yeah. get ready the crates. thanks."  
There was a long, deafening pause.  
"....you already fucking LOST HIM?"  
\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hobestly if i saw that daymn thing in myye living rooom id stomp on eet until eet was a small brown staiiin


	4. Metatron and the Silver City (1/?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a story of an angel and his misadventures. 1/?

different classes of angel cannot touch or not touch for long, for it burns them. different molecular structures, bodies, and degrees of contact with the holy and unholy made sure of that.  
Metatron, however, could not touch anyone.  
he was second only to the gods. his holiness countered other angels in two categories : slim and none.  
no one could touch him. sometimes just being near him was enough to get a light burn from the heat or to wear sunglasses. when the gods visited the silver city, angels stepped out of the way in fear of burning to a crisp. metatron did not. he walked swiftly by side with them, holding back to talk to the ones he liked.  
gods did not visit often. only one did.  
ukuthula. the god of silence. he often sat on or near metatron's home in the mountains, upon the highest point of the silver city.  
he could not speak, his mouth being melted off my the goddess of music so many years ago. they had forgiven each other, but that did not help the fact that his mouth was still not there.  
metatron did not like to watch ukuthula's meditation periods, because he in particular was scary. he had no eyes, a serene yet nightmarish black liquid spilling out of them in a loop, the liquid never reaching past his mouth, as if frozen in time. not that metatron was any different. he was indescribable.  
but if you describe something as indescribable, haven't you just described it?  
these are the things he pondered in his spare time.  
despite being second to the gods, he was not raziel.  
raziel kept all of the universe's secrets, like "is water wet?" and "who is this strange man, and what is he doing in my house?"  
the singular time metatron had looked into the meditations was horrifying.  
ukuthula's whole face was turning into a liquid, pooling onto the floor as he wept.  
metatron did not know gods could be so sad.  
perhaps it had something to do with how they were so involved with demons and the feeling of loneliness.  
demons.  
he heard that demons were cold to the touch.  
he wanted to be cold so bad. but he'd never met a demon before. only the official squadron sent to thwart and vanquish demons could talk and meet with them.  
he heard a buzzing at his neck and turned around to see Duma. Duma was a thrones angel, which meant his physical appearance was just that of two rings circling each other set on fire. oh! also: the rings had eyes. Duma did what can only be assumed was a bow to metatron. he did the same back.  
he could tell that even though being constantly set on fire, just being near him caused the horde of rings filled with eyes to sweat.  
metatron liked duma. or, more accurately, he liked dreams.  
dreams, which duma was the prince of, set him free from real life. or just short of it.  
"sir metatron?"  
metatron realized that duma had been rambling for quite some time while he was spacing off. metatron squared his back and corrected his posture.  
"yes?"  
"did you hear any of what i just said?"  
"no."  
Duma would have sighed, but he not only 1.) did not wanted to be smited by the most powerful angel in all of the silver city, and 2.) did not know if Metatron was simply just like this all the time. he was not. he was, in fact, just having an off day.  
"the principalities have summoned you."  
Metatron tried to keep his shoulders from slumping over in defeat. the principalities were a group of angels below him that were always vying for his attention. look at this new animal we made! isn't it neat? it has a duck bill and has fur and also a waffle tail and also poisonous stingers on its feet! isn't that so cool? we call it a platypus!  
about roughly ten minutes later, metatron was down in the city, angels stepping out of his way , some looking at him in awe. it was only ever so often he came to visit, as he hated being treated like this.  
a young angel tapped him on the shoulder, and then cried out in anguish, clutching his burned finger. his mother pulled him back, staring at her son as if he was brain-dead.  
metatron brushed it off. it had happened before, it would happen again.  
he spotted something out of the corner of his eye. someone. Kalaziel, thwarter of demons of disease, was walking towards his group, probably off on another round of making sure demons stopped doing... whatever they were doing.  
Metatron began to side- step towards him.  
a million eyes caught his. right. duma was his escort.  
"metatron? where are you going?"  
"um."  
there was a long pause for what seemed like hours.  
"bathroom?"  
"bathroom...?"  
"bathroom."  
"you need to go to the bathroom."  
"yeah."  
a longer pause.  
"okay."  
metatron couldn't believe that had worked.  
duma couldn't believe that metatron believed it had worked.  
metatron sheilded himself with his wings and scooted as silently as he could, when no one was looking, over to kalaziel.  
he followed kalaziel to his squadron, without anyone noticing. maybe it's because his wings could often serve the purpose of the invisibility cloak in harry potter.  
Leo, the lowest ranking of the squadron, at only archangel status, instantly started to tug at his robe.  
"is it getting hot in here or something?"  
beads of sweat dripped off of his face as if it was a race to get to his chin.  
the others were sweating a little, but not to the degree leo was. and gods forbid one of them accidentally bumped into him.  
"um..." briathos scratched her head. "it'll go away soon. always hot in the silver city."  
"THIS hot?" kalaziel asked, shifting nervously.  
"let's just go."  
now, there are two modes of transportation used to get angels to earth. the first was summoning, but the mode of transportation the squadrons use to get from heaven to earth is indescribable- which then sort of brings us back to the raziel question- but aside from that.  
the best way to describe this indescribable mode of transportation would be, simply, a bus. it's a bus. it's not piloted by anyone. it's just a bus.  
metatron sat in the back where no one could see him. the seat was in surprisingly good shape for something that hadn't been renewed in millions or years.  
"the heat isn't leaving." kalaziel hissed.  
Ouriel commander of the squadron, sometimes slept on the bus for some unknown reason. this was one of those times.  
he was a cherubim, which meant he was creepy as fuck. three heads, eyes on the wings. not that that was unusual in heaven.  
but he was very strict and proffessional.  
and, as metatron's head thankfully forgot for him, he could sense and see auras of everyone around him.  
in other words, the guy was a bitch to play hide and seek with.  
"a noble is here."  
the rest of the squadron instantly bristled in fear.  
"well, that answers the heat question." Leo said, half-scared.  
"which one is it?" Briathos asked.  
"as long as it isn't metatron, we should be fine. but what's the chance of him coming down from his house?" eae commented, releived in a way.  
Ouriel stared at Metatron knowlingly.  
Metatron coughed and stood, unfolding his wings.  
Eae lost his shit. "ME- METATRON!!!"  
Ouriel kneeled, and the others bowed in solidarity, Eae going the lowest with hopes to make up for his smack talk.  
"holiest of holies, Metatron. what is your buisness here?"  
Metatron hated being addressed that way. it was too proper.  
"i wanted to. see... how demons are. thwarted."  
"We'd be delighted to show you. if you'd please sit with Eae so he can show you how it's done. from a safe distance, of course."  
metatron sat across from Eae on the aile.  
Eae was sweating vigorously, and not just because of metatron's rank.  
"well, um, first you gotta, like, um- to demon-"  
"what do they feel like?"  
now, Eae, in his many years in catching demons, had never heard that question before. but he had heard another question that was similar.  
"you mean what does it feel like to catch one,right? well-"  
"no."  
"no?"  
"i mean what does it feel like to touch them."  
"um"  
"Are they cold? do they have scales? i've never seen one before!"  
"um, well-"  
"do they have horns and little tails and dragon wings?"  
Eae felt pushed into a corner to answer these questions.  
the angel next to Eae, however, enjoyed watching the seraphim's face light up.  
Leo straightened themself.  
"actually, they do have tails and horns. but they aren't scaly. they look closer to humans. they don't have any physical differences between ranks, it's fascinating really."  
\---  
while this explaining and chattering was taking place, one god among millions - but specifically the one that spent days at a time at metatron's house medatating- was confused. he was confused because he had asked metatron for a water glass an hour ago, and he still had not recieved it. Metatron usually gave him the glass within seconds.  
ukuthala let the first few seconds pass.  
and then he let the next few seconds pass.  
and then he let an hour pass.  
he wasn't going to do anything with the water, really. drink it maybe? gods don't get thirsty.  
he just liked how it felt on his hands when he touched it.  
he liked how it could be hot at one time and cold at another depending on what its user wanted.  
so naturally, he frequently asked for it.  
he never dispensed it himself though. he wasn't on the frequent with the new technology, like "dishwatchers" and "cupholders". why would his dishes need watching anyways?  
he, understandably, was confused with how to get water out of the sink.  
after another hour and a half, metatron's poor sink was reduced to a few pipes vaguely representing a working water system.  
but, ukathala had his cup of water.  
so, ukathala - one, sink- zero.  
it was then that he noticed a pink slip of paper on top of the counter.  
he picked it up.  
it read, simply: "going out for a few! -metatron"  
and below it, intructions for how to turn the sink on and off.  
but why would metatron go out of his house? the only feasible explanation would be he had been kidnapped.  
whoever kidnapped him probably took him to the silver city. and, as ukathala knew from experience, the shortest distance between two points was a straight line.  
so ukathala took a running start towards the edge of the cliff and jumped off without hesitation.  
before we get into the logistics, i would like to state that no gods were hurt in the making of this story.  
now- with that in mind- let's continue.  
there are three different types of souls, each with different categories under their namesake.  
we don't have time to unpack ALL of that, but i can tell you the types of souls and what we'll be covering.  
the three types of souls are: divine, human, and none.  
i'm just going to cover the divine right now, so you won't have to worry about ukuthala seriously hurting himself.  
the most known archetypes of divine souls are demon, angel, and god.  
Ukuthala is a god, which is why he feels nothing and will get only a minimal count of three semi-large scrapes going down the mountain.  
it's all part of the luxury of being a god, along with excelling at whatever job you're assigned. so, as would be expected, ukuthala rapelled down the mountain silently at over 260 miles per hour, not making a single solitary sound.  
angels yelled and scattered as he landed lopsidedly on the ground of the silver city. he looked around and scooted towards the town center, where Duma was seemingly waiting for him. not being able to speak using words, Ukuthala simply just vibrated different frequencies containing what he needed to say.  
*Duma?*  
"holiest of holies, Ukuthala. what may i help you with?"  
*i was looking for metatron?*  
"oh he left on the demon bus ages ago."  
*and you didn't stop him?*  
"no."  
*why?*  
"didn't feel like it"  
Ukuthala did not know what the demon bus was. his first and only thought after he heard the word demon bus was that demons had captured his aquaintaince/friend/person that existed around him and got him water sometimes.  
he did not know what a bus was. whatever he was imagining, though, was definetly not a bus.  
in all honesty, he probably thought bus was slang for a type of demon. he didn't keep up these days.  
*you let metatron get stolen by demons?*  
"what? sir, i don't think you understa-"  
*WHAT IS HE DOING WITH THEM??*  
" no, the-"  
*WHERE IS THIS BUS?*  
"sir,-"  
Duma had been having a long day already, and being a wheel in one of the many god's chariots was earnest work.  
he did not have the mental energy to explain to this ancient being what a bus was.  
"the bus is that way."  
*thank you.*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1: this was a bitch and a half to copy and paste. respect me yon Ao3 gods  
> 2: this is real long, wow.  
> 3: h.

**Author's Note:**

> thansk for reading //deep dab//


End file.
